


Snippet

by alafaye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with John and Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snippet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the winter exchange at the LJ community holmestice.

Sherlock hummed into John's mouth and John smiled. He loved mornings like this--no cases on, no one intruding and asking questions or demanding their time, neither of their phones going off. He ran a hand up Sherlock's side, enjoying the way the muscles tensed and relaxed. Sherlock sighed and pulled away to look at John. His hand sneaked up John's neck to scratch at the back of his head.

"Morning," John said.

Sherlock said nothing, but his expression said enough. Though Sherlock did not like the quiet time between cases and experiments, he did enjoy these little moments they managed to snatch. There was something peaceful about them and comforting in their own way. John shifted so he was more fully on his side and tangled their legs together. Sherlock wrapped an arm around John's waist and back, tightening to lay an anchor on John. John nuzzled into Sherlock's neck and spent some blissful time licking and sucking the skin.

The time, of course, couldn't last. Eventually, the alarm on John's phone went off. "Mm, that'll be Christmas."

Sherlock groaned. "Leave it. Mycroft can let us have today."

It was true that leading up to today they'd had several cases. It had seemed that once the shops had begun to stock their shelves in anticipation of the season in November, the crime rate went up. John understood in a way that loneliness and family arguments could drive anyone to do something rash, but that several dozen of London's citizens would decide to all do it? It was why he was enjoying their quiet time alone quite thoroughly today.

"And then he'll send whatever her name is around to collect us and do you recall how embarrassing that was?" John said.

It had been...three months ago? They were coming down from a rather enjoying case--chasing their suspect's clues from one end of London to the other and then when they finally caught up with him, chasing him up and down the streets and buildings. It had been very thrilling, and afterwards they decided to forgo even making it up to their flat and make best use of the chair Mrs. Hudson kept in the front hall. Sherlock had John pressed into it, straddling him, and they were giving each other a very thorough examination of the tonsils.

It had been wonderful.

Until Mycroft's assistant had walked in--just as a shirtless Sherlock was in the process of removing all of John's clothes as they both loved the feeling of skin on skin. (They were lucky it was Mrs. Hudson's bingo night.) The assistant had, for once, looked up from her blackberry and told them if they were ever in need of an extra for their activities, she was available. It was the only time John had ever seen Sherlock flush red in embarrassment.

Sherlock groaned and rolled onto his back. "I do so hate my brother."

John spent a few seconds admiring Sherlock's lean form, the relaxed muscles and long limbs. "Right. I have to shower--joining me?" He had learned early on that inviting Sherlock was easier than going on his own--eventually Sherlock joined him anyway.

"Of course." Sherlock smiled playfully at John. "I don't ever miss a chance to have you wet and naked."

John laughed, shaking his head.

~~~

"Ah, there you are," Mycroft said, as Sherlock and John entered the living room.

Mrs. Holmes smiled at them from her seat near the fireplace. "We were getting worried."

"Sherlock got distracted," John said.

Mycroft raised his eyebrow, no doubt knowing what Sherlock had been distracted by; Greg looked torn between amusement and "not going there". Mrs. Holmes, however, laughed. "Oh, that's my boy--always fascinated by the world."

John was ever grateful that she was discrete at the very least. He didn't know whether she knew what he and Sherlock got up to, but as she never said anything, he liked to think she didn't. After all, she had displayed talents similar to those of her sons.

"Drinks," Mycroft said. "John?"

"You know already, Mycroft," Sherlock said. He looked challenging.

Mycroft sighed. "Gin and tonic, John? Water, Sherlock?"

They both agreed and while Sherlock made a beeline for Greg--to discuss a case most likely and Greg seemed to know it--John crossed the room to Mrs. Holmes. Despite his trepidation on first meeting her, he got along well with Sherlock's mum and he was grateful. There was nothing worse than having your lover's mother despising you.

"And how are you doing?" he asked her as he sat.

"Well enough, dear, thank you," she said. "The doctor said my new exercises are doing very well for my arthritis and do thank dear Mrs. Hudson for suggesting those herbal remedies."

John nodded. "I will."

"Where did you develop those exercises?" she asked. "I never did ask--I doubt you had time in the war."

He thanked Mycroft for his drink as it was handed to him. "I did, actually. There was a bit of a quiet spot and one of the soldiers in my unit had been recovering from a knee wound."

She nodded. "Of course. Are you writing a paper on it? I'm sure it will be accepted by the medical community and I would vouch for you."

He wondered, for the hundredth time, how much influence the Holmes family really had. "I'm considering it. Sherlock keeps pressing me to."

"He's a wonderful boy," she said, looking over to him. "I'm glad he has you. You've done him a lot of good." She leaned forward. "And I am ever so pleased that he found someone who understands his...unique proclivities."

John smiled. "He's not so unique. And we do share similar needs." He winked and she tittered.

"John, please stop flirting with my mother-in-law," Greg said as he joined the conversation. "It's upsetting Sherlock."

John looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that it's not Mycroft upsetting him?"

"Might be a bit of both, to tell the truth," Greg conceded.

"They do love to bicker," Mrs. Holmes said with a frown.

John sighed and excused himself. "It's Christmas--can't you two leave off for at least today?"

The Holmes brothers looked at him as though he were speaking a language that neither of them spoke (which must have been a language from off world since John was firm in his belief that between them both, they knew every language spoken on the planet).

"Excuse him, Mycroft," Sherlock said. "He's forgotten what siblings are like as he hasn't seen his sister for some time."

John raised an eyebrow. Sherlock looked calmly back. Mycroft coughed. "Must you two flirt while the rest of us are present?"

"As though you kissing your husband isn't worse," Sherlock replied.

The dinner gong sounded and John jumped. No matter how many years he spent with them, he would never get used to that.

~~~

Sherlock let out a pleased sigh as they re-entered their flat. "Another year done with. I am ever thankful the holiday occurs only once a year."

John laughed and hung up his coat. "Tea?"

"After all you ate, I am surprised you have room," Sherlock teased. He fell back on the sofa.

"Helps with digestion," John said. He turned the kettle on and pulled out two cups. It was habit by now, making two. Sherlock might not eat often, but he could drink gallons of tea.

"Untrue! Does not help with digestion."

"Well, it just makes me feel better, all right?"

"Ah, trite actions. You are so boring sometimes."

"You like it."

"Because underneath all those boring parts is something completely extraordinary."

John felt warmed by the compliment. He poured the water over the tea bags and stood back to let them steep. "I doubt I would have been here so long if I wasn't in some part interesting."

"I'd have run you out of here if you were completely boring and normal."

"Good thing for me I'm not."

Silence followed, but it was peaceful. John removed the bags once the tea was ready and took the cups into the sitting room. Sherlock looked away from the ceiling to take his cup from John and sat up. John sat in his customary spot at the end of the sofa and held up his arm. Sherlock curled into him with a smirk.

"You remind me of a cat," John muttered. "Got me trained as well as one."

Sherlock only hummed and John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's temple. With the lazy morning and then a--surprisingly--quiet dinner and now this, John felt this was one of their better holidays. "Happy Christmas, Sherlock."

"Happy Christmas, John."


End file.
